


I Won’t Send Roses

by Hazel_Athena



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Established Relationship, Future Fic, M/M, Misunderstandings, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-21
Updated: 2019-04-21
Packaged: 2020-01-23 13:34:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18550810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hazel_Athena/pseuds/Hazel_Athena
Summary: It takes them virtually no time at all to realize they’re never going to be ‘just friends’. They give it an honest shot, but in the end they simply mean too much to each other, and the idea of friendship becomes something more.“You mean you’re dating?” Maria asks dryly one night when Alex tries to explain it to her. “Literally anyone in the group could have told you that,” she adds when he nods helplessly. “On account of us all having functioning eyes.”





	I Won’t Send Roses

**Author's Note:**

> From a Tumblr prompt wherein Alex’s idea of a date is a six pack and sex, while Michael wants actual romance. I started writing this one before Episode 12 aired, so its an AU in the sense that Caufield never happened. Canon compliant up until then though.

  
It takes them virtually no time at all to realize they’re never going to be ‘just friends’. They give it an honest shot, but in the end they simply mean too much to each other, and the idea of friendship becomes something more.  
  
“You mean you’re dating?” Maria asks dryly one night when Alex tries to explain it to her. “Literally anyone in the group could have told you that,” she adds when he nods helplessly. “On account of us all having functioning eyes.”  
  
“But that’s not what it’s supposed to be,” Alex protests worriedly. “We were supposed to get to know each other. After so much time, we need that before we can have anything else.”  
  
“It’s been months, Alex,” she deadpans. “Months of watching you two idiots dance around each other, wondering when either of you would get a clue. I’m only sad you couldn’t have waited two more weeks for your grand discovery. Valenti just beat me in the betting pool.”  
  
Scowling at her, Alex sips moodily at his drink. “That had better be a joke.”  
  
Maria gives him a look that suggests she’ll never tell. Then she cocks her head to the side, appearing torn between rolling her eyes and smiling in amusement. “Speak of the devil, Prince Charming just walked through the door.”  
  
Twisting in his seat, Alex cranes his neck around to follow her gaze. It doesn’t take him long to spot Michael slipping through the crowd of patrons, easily dodging stumbling drunks as he beelines right for where they’re sitting.  
  
“Heyyy, private,” he drawls, ignoring Alex’s pointed glare at his use of that particular title. “Fancy meeting you here.”  
  
Across from them, Maria sighs. “It’s a bar, Guerin. We attract all kinds. Now, are you actually going to order something and then pay for it, or is tonight going to be one of your more typical stays?”  
  
Without taking his eyes off Alex, Michael gives a one shoulder shrug. “I’m good for it,” he says. “I’ll take a beer and another of whatever this fine gentleman is having. On me.”  
  
He winks roguishly, and it no doubt says something awful about Alex’s taste in men that his stomach swoops alarmingly at the sight. Belatedly, however, his brain catches up with what Michael’s just said.  
  
“Hold off on that second drink, Maria,” he says, catching her right before she’s out of earshot. He keeps his attention mostly focused on Michael. “I’m good with the one. I’ve still got to drive home tonight.”  
  
Michael pouts at him. “You saying I can’t do something nice for you, private?”  
  
Alex gives some serious thought to kicking him. “If you want to do something nice, you can stop calling me that. I don’t need anymore booze.”  
  
“Fine,” Michael huffs. He waits for Maria to hand him his own beer, and then slouches dramatically in his seat. “So what brings you out here tonight? I thought you were staying in?”  
  
Alex doesn’t remember saying that, but it’s possible he might have. Truthfully, that had been the extent of his plans, at least until he’d felt the walls of the cabin closing in on him because he couldn’t stop thinking about the man sitting next to him, anyway.  
  
“I needed to clear my head,” he says finally, hoping he’s not giving too much away. A crowded bar is not the place to be having a conversation that’s meant for just the two of them. “Figure some things out.”  
  
“Yeah?” Michael asks. He sits up a little straighter, most of the uncaring cowboy facade slipping away as he stares at Alex intently. “And did you?”  
  
Alex eyes him for several long moments before coming to a decision. Sliding off his stool, he drops some cash down next to his abandoned drink, his eyes never leaving Michael’s.   
  
“I’m heading out,” he says, gratified by the way Michael’s breath hitches. “Maybe once you’ve finished your drink, you’ll do the same.”  
  
He’s already reached his car by the time he sees Michael exit the bar. Winking at him over the steering will, he fishes out his phone and sends a quick text on his way out of the parking lot.  
  
 _Come on over if you want._ _  
_ _  
_*****  
  
Alex doesn’t notice any familiar headlights in his rear view mirror, but he’s barely hung his coat on the rack when there’s a knock at the cabin door. Probably unrealistically, he hopes Michael didn’t break any speed limits following him out here.  
  
When he opens the door, it’s to find Michael standing there, bracing his hands on either side of the frame. “Hey,” he says, shifting slightly. “Uh, can I come in?”  
  
Laughing, Alex steps back to give him room to do exactly that. “Of course you can,” he teases. “I didn’t invite you over to hang out on the porch all night.”  
  
“Right, right,” recognizing that for the opening it is, Michael crosses the threshold once Alex is out of the way. Bouncing on his toes, he gives the impression he’s no less nervous outside than in. “...hi?”  
  
Alex laughs again. “Hi, Michael,” he says easily. “Come grab a seat. You want a beer or something since I made you leave your last one behind?”  
  
“Beer sounds good,” Michael agrees. He glances around the living room, almost like he’s never seen it before, despite the fact that he’s been over plenty of times since the situation with the forth alien had resolved itself. “I guess I’ll just sit?”  
  
“That is what I suggested, yeah,” Alex says. He wanders into the kitchen area to grab the promised beer, nabbing one of his own while he’s there. Then he walks back to Michael, offering him a bottle. “All yours.”  
  
“Thanks,” Michael says, but instead of popping the cap off and taking a swig like Alex is expecting, he sets his drink down on the coffee table, and braces his hands on his thighs. “Alex, why am I here? Is this us hanging out, or is it something else?”  
  
Trust Michael to cut right to the chase while he’s still beating around the bush. Putting his own drink down as well, Alex takes the spot next to him on the couch. “What do you want it to be?”  
  
Michael sucks in a heavy breath. “You know,” he says shortly. “You _have_ to know.”  
  
“Yeah,” Alex admits because he does. “It’s the same for me.”  
  
“I talked to Maria tonight,” he adds, and Michael blinks at this apparent non sequitur. “She basically told me to either shit or get off the pot. She also implied we’re already dating.”  
  
“Kinda?” Michael shrugs. “I don’t really have much experience in the area, so I don’t know.”  
  
_Fuck it,_ Alex thinks. They’ve been through too much after all these years to keep denying each other what they want. They’ve spent enough time together over the past several months to relearn each other, and that same old pull is right where it’s always been. If anything’s changed it’s that it’s gotten stronger.  
  
“I think she’s right,” Alex murmurs, leaning in close without conscious thought. “And I think it’s time we stop pretending otherwise.”  
  
Michael, bless him, meets him halfway. Their lips meet in a kiss that sends sparks flying, and with one thing leading to another, the next thing Alex knows he’s lying in his bed, panting up at the ceiling while Michael sprawls out next to him.  
  
“Shit,” Michael breathes, and there’s a hitch in his voice that would be gratifying if Alex’s own brain wasn’t likewise turned to mush. “I swear I meant to move a lot slower once you finally gave me a sign.”  
  
Alex snorts. “You’ve never moved slow in your life,” he chides. “Don’t go starting on my account.”  
  
“Yeah, but ...” Michael makes a weird face, only to trail off when Alex raises an eyebrow at him. “I don’t know. Never mind, I guess.”  
  
Thinking this probably isn’t the time to push, Alex lets him be. Propping himself up on one elbow, he splays his hand out over Michael’s stomach, stroking his fingers over the skin in the way he knows he likes. “You should stay the night.”  
  
If asked, Alex would’ve said he’d expected Michael to respond with some kind of teasing quip, like an ‘Oh, I should, should I?’ or maybe an ‘Is that so, private?’. Instead, he blushes.  
  
“You sure about that?” He asks shyly.  
  
Too busy marvelling at the way his cheeks are tinged faintly pink, Alex almost forgets to answer. “Yeah,” he says belatedly, stumbling over the word a little. He resumes his stroking to try and play it cool. “I’m sure.”  
  
Again he’s expecting Michael to try and make light of things, maybe by joking about how Alex has a nicer bed than he does or something, and again he’s wrong. Shifting minutely, Michael presses up against Alex, curving their bodies together in a way that promises he’s not going anywhere.  
  
“I’d like that,” he says, and Alex melts.  
  
“Good,” he hears himself say. “Good.”  
  
*****  
  
Alex wakes the next morning to find Michael propped up on one elbow and staring at him. He feels a brief yet uncomfortable sense of déjà vu for the moment in the airstream when he’d totally fucked up, but quickly pushes that thought out of his head.  
  
“Hey,” he says softly, and is rewarded by a bright smile.  
  
“Hey,” Michael says back. “How’d you sleep?”  
  
Alex snorts. “Pretty sure it’s me who should be asking you that since you’re the one who woke up in a strange bed, but for the record I slept pretty great. Definitely better than usual anyway.”  
  
“Yeah?” Michael asks, and he wriggles happily when Alex nods. “Me too. We should do it again sometime.”  
  
Alex feels his lips turn up, and he knows without question that a truly stupid smile is currently gracing his features. “We should,” he agrees. “I think it’s part of this whole dating thing.”  
  
“Right,” Micheal says, and Alex feels a tiny sense of trepidation creep into his happiness as his serious tone. “About that. I, uh. I don’t really know how to date? I’ve never done it before.”  
  
“Oh,” Alex says, relieved that the issue is such a minor one. “Honestly, I don’t have that much experience with it myself. We’ll figure it out.”  
  
“In fact,” he continues on as an idea occurs to him. “You should let me take you out tonight.”  
  
“Is that so?” Michael asks, his usual cocky grin slipping into place between one breath and the next. “And where are you gonna take me? You want to parade me around town on your arm?”  
  
“Can’t tell you, it’s a secret,” Alex insists, though he’s thinking nothing of the sort. Walking arm in arm through Roswell might be alright to an extent, but he has a hard time picturing Michael enjoying it. “You’ll find out later.”  
  
“Sounds kinda ominous,” Michael muses, “but okay. What am I supposed to do until then?”  
  
“Well, I guess you could do your actual job,” Alex says thoughtfully, “but that would mean getting up and getting dressed, and it’s such a long drive back to the junkyard.”  
  
“So long,” Michael agrees with a laugh, which is something he does a second time when Alex shifts to crawl over him and push him onto his back. “Easy there, private. I’m a delicate guy.”  
  
“You really need to stop calling me that,” Alex says, even though he knows the request is probably futile. Before Michael can respond, however, he leans down to press a kiss to his chest, followed by a few more for added measure.  
  
After a few moments, he shifts, letting the kisses trail upwards until he can capture Michael’s mouth with his own. Cupping one of his hands over Michael’s jaw, he pulls him in for a deep kiss.  
  
“And good morning to you too,” Michael grins when they break apart. “I could get used to that.”  
  
“Good,” Alex says, and leans in again.  
  
*****  
  
Not wanting this attempt at a relationship to be as purely physical as the last one, Alex does eventually insist they get out of bed. He lets Michael have first crack at the shower, and heads for the kitchen at the same time, deciding that breakfast sounds like a good idea.  
  
That’s where Michael finds him later, standing over a pan of eggs in nothing but a pair of worn out sleep pants. He’s already got a stack of toast laid out on a plate nearby, and the coffee maker is mere moments away from announcing it’s done as well.  
  
“Not bad, Manes,” Michael says, nodding in approval from where he’s leaning in the doorway. He’s tugged on last night’s jeans, but has foregone any other clothing, and Alex refuses to be distracted by how low they’re resting on his hips. “Smells good.”  
  
“It’s nothing fancy,” Alex murmurs, not wanting to make a big deal out of anything. “Just eggs and toast.”  
  
“S’a lot fancier than what I’m used to,” Michael replies. “Especially by having somebody cook it for me.” Pushing away from the wall, he wanders into the kitchen and comes to stand behind Alex, hooking his arms around his waist and propping his chin on his shoulder. “S’nice, thanks.”  
  
“No thanks necessary,” Alex insists, flustered. “We both need to eat at some point.”  
  
He can practically feel Michael holding back some crack about needing to keep their strength up, or something equally ridiculous. Grateful for the man’s restraint, he scrapes the eggs onto the plates he has ready on the counter, and presses a quick kiss to Michael’s cheek as he slips out of his embrace. “Grab the coffee, will you?”  
  
Huffing out a laugh, Michael does as he’s told.  
  
They eat at Alex’s crappy, barely big enough table, and then they spend the rest of the morning lazily curled up together. Eventually, however, Alex sends Michael on his way.  
  
“I’ll pick you up later,” he promises, speaking over Michael’s disgruntled protests. “Probably around eight. Dress warmly.”  
  
Michael raises an eyebrow at him, but otherwise doesn’t comment. He’s steals another kiss as Alex is hustling him out the door, and then one more for added measure before he steps down off the porch.   
  
Alex watches as he climbs into his truck, waving from the doorway as he backs out of the driveway. He waits until the taillights have disappeared, and then heads back inside.  
  
He spends the rest of the day vibrating with this weird nervous energy that he knows has everything to do with Michael. Deciding to channel it into something productive, he winds up cleaning about half the cabin, only stopping when he realizes that if he pushes himself too hard, he won’t be able to go out later.   
  
Staying in wouldn’t be the end of the world, he thinks, but it sort of flies in the face of this whole ‘having a relationship outside of the bedroom’ thing they’re supposedly trying. That’s why, when evening rolls around, he tosses what he thinks he’ll need in the back of his car and heads for the junkyard.  
  
Michael’s waiting outside for him when he gets there, perched on the steps of his airstream, fidgeting noticeably when Alex lets his vehicle roll to a stop. He stands before that’s fully completed, and starts walking towards the car.  
  
Alex meets him partway, sneaking in for a kiss like it’s been days since they’d last seen each other, rather than a handful of hours. “Hi there,” he breathes when he pulls back.  
  
“Howdy,” Michael says with a wink, and Alex knows without question that if he were wearing his ridiculous cowboy hat, he’d be tipping it right now. “You going to tell me where we’re going yet? Seeing as you told me to dress warm, I’m guessing it’s not for the stereotypical dinner and a movie.”  
  
“You don’t strike me as a dinner and a movie kind of guy,” Alex teases, continuing on before Michael can reply. “I was actually thinking of someplace considerably more secluded.”  
  
Michael gives him a look he can’t read, but all he says is, “I’m listening.”  
  
Alex gives him another quick peck of a kiss. “Help me get the stuff from my car. We need to take your truck.”  
  
“And why is that?” Michael asks, even though he’s already following Alex’s lead.  
  
Alex gives him a wink of his own as he pulls a bunch of blankets out of his car and hands them to the other man. “Because unlike my ride, we can lie down in it.”  
  
“I also have beer,” he announces, raising a six pack up for Michael to see, “and while it might not be restaurant fare, there’s a cooler full of food too. I’m not about to let you go hungry.”  
  
“That’s nice,” Michael says as he drops the stack of blankets into the bed of his truck, “but you still haven’t told me where we’re going.”  
  
Alex waits until all of the supplies are safely stowed away, and then climbs carefully into the cab of the truck next to him. “Just drive. I’ll know when we get there.”  
  
They head for the desert and all the empty space it has to provide. Michael drives until Alex determines they’ve gone far enough, and then pulls off the road when directed.  
  
“So what’re we doing out here?” He asks, yanking the keys out of the ignition. “If you want to have your wicked way with me, Manes, I can think of better places to do it.”  
  
“While I’m certainly keeping that option open, I happen to have something else in mind.” Hopping down out of the cab, Alex closes the door behind him, and waits for Michael to do the same.  
  
“So, here are some things I know you like,” he says, resting his elbows on the side of the truck bed, and staring across it at Michael. “Me, alcohol, and outer space. I can bring you the first two no problem, but this is the closest I can get you to the third. How’s that for a night out?”  
  
Michael gives him a lopsided grin, barely visible due the darkness. “It’s alright, I guess.”  
  
Rolling his eyes, Alex walks around to take down the lip of the truck. “Help me with the blankets, will you? They’ll be more comfortable to sit on than the metal.”  
  
Obligingly, Michael helps him arrange the truck bed so it’s something they can both handle sitting in for a prolonged amount of time. Within minutes, they’re relaxing side by side with their backs up against the cab, splitting the pack of beers between them.  
  
“You good?” Alex asks after Michael’s been quiet for a while.  
  
“Mhmm,” Michael hums, and soon he slides lower in the truck, maneuvering so he can flatten himself over Alex’s chest. “Pretty good, yeah. You’re going to have to let me think of something next, though. It can’t be all you all the time.”  
  
“I don’t see why not,” Alex laughs. “I like coming up with things to make you happy.”  
  
Michael’s quiet for a moment, and then, “You are so fucking corny, I swear to god.”  
  
In answer Alex slides down next to him, and neither of them says anything for quite a while.  
  
*****  
  
True to his words, Alex basically takes over arranging their time together. It’s not that he thinks Michael can’t do it, but where Alex has always been something of a Type A personality who likes to have everything organized just so, Michael’s more of a go with the flow sort. He likes what he likes, and seems content to let Alex do as he pleases.  
  
Alex in turn pays him back for this freedom by keeping things low key and relaxed like he knows Michael prefers. They don’t really go in for the fancy nights out, but instead split their time pretty much equally between their respective homes.  
  
Sometimes it’s a planned night (or day, depending on the circumstances) in, while others are more spur of the moment. Alex finds he enjoys popping by the junkyard or the bunker and simply watching Michael tinker with whatever project has caught his eye this time.  
  
Usually he’ll bring beer and food with him, such as take out or pizza, and they spend a while in each other’s company until one thing inevitably leads to another. It’s and easy, relatively stress free way to be around each other, and Alex is quickly learning that’s exactly the pace he wants out of life.  
  
Which leads them to moments like this one.  
  
Alex is trying very hard not to drool. He’s also about ninety-five percent certain he’s failing in that endeavour, but in his defence, if anyone’s to blame for this, it’s Michael.  
  
Having had nothing particular to do today, he’d absently texted Michael and asked if he wanted to hang out. He’d had to wait a bit for a response, afterwards he’d learned the other man was apparently elbow deep in the belly of a truck that’s been giving its owner fits. Despite this, Michael’d told him to feel free to come over, and they could spend some time together once he was done.  
  
Not having to be asked twice, Alex had changed into something that wouldn’t be at risk of being destroyed in the junkyard, and headed for his car. Eventually he’d pulled up to where Michael’s truck was located in its usual spot and proceeded to go in search of the man in question.  
  
He’d found him exactly where he’d said he’d be, with his head under the hood of the recalcitrant truck, muttering irritably when it didn’t do what he wanted.   
  
“Does swearing at it make you feel better?” Alex asked as he approached. “Or is that just par for the course?”  
  
Apparently not having heard him coming, Michael had reared up and almost brained  himself on the truck, barely catching himself at the last minute.   
  
Concerned, Alex had stepped towards him a little faster, holding a hand up to automatically check for damage himself. “You okay?”   
  
“Yeah, fine,” Michael grumbled. For a second Alex had thought  he was going to swat his hand away, but instead he’d wound up leaning into the touch. “Just having a hard time with the damn thing, is all.”  
  
“Feel like taking a break?” Alex had offered, only to be surprised when Michael had shaken his head.  
  
“I can’t,” he’d said apologetically. “This one’s on a deadline, so I’ve got to get it done. You’re going to have to entertain yourself on your own for at least a little while.”  
  
“I’m sure I can figure something out,” Alex had promised, although not before he’d gotten himself a quick kiss hello as Michael’d turned back to the truck.  
  
That had been roughly a half an hour ago, and about five minutes previously, Michael had given in to the heat and shucked the ratty, oil stained t-shirt he’d been wearing upon Alex’s arrival, balling it up and shoving it in his back pocket without so much as a by your leave. He’s back under the hood yet again, muscles flexing visibly as he works, and Alex is honestly feeling a little faint.  
  
“Aren’t you worried about burning?” He calls, doing his best to sound normal. “It’s like a hundred degrees out.”  
  
Michael turns around to look at him, raising an eyebrow at the same time. “One, no it’s not, and two, we don’t burn.”  
  
“Wait, seriously?” Alex asks. Of all the things he’d suspected might result from Michael’s alien biology, that hadn’t even made the list.  
  
Michael holds his gaze for several seconds, before bursting out laughing. “Nah, I’m just messing with you,” he says, reclining back against the truck. “You’re really gullible when it comes to this kind of thing.”  
  
Remembering the time Michael had oh so briefly made him think he could erase his memories, Alex scowls at him. Or tries to anyway, it’s possible he’s struggling not to laugh himself. “You’re not nearly as funny as you think you are.”  
  
“I’m hilarious, actually,” Michael counters. “I also have a few beers stashed in the cooler there. If you’re worried about overheating, feel free to grab one.”  
  
Following the direction he’s gesturing in, Alex spots the aforementioned cooler tucked away underneath one of the many workbenches. Deciding it can’t hurt, he gets up to go retrieve a bottle.  
  
“You want one too?” He asks, and at Michael’s nod grabs a second one while he’s in there.  
  
“Thanks,” Michael says when he hands it over. Popping the cap off with ease, he brings the bottle to his lips and knocks back a hearty gulp, his throat bobbing as he swallows.  
  
Coming to the conclusion that this has done nothing to improve the situation, Alex looks around for something to distract himself with so Michael can finish his job.  
  
Salvation comes in the form of an unlikely source. Alex is on the verge of giving in and trying to talk Michael into a quickie in the airstream when the sound of an engine reaches their ears. Twisting around, he finds Max Evans driving up in his cruiser.  
  
He hears Michael mutter something along the lines of ‘For Christ’s sake’ under his breath, but he’s too busy scooting away several feet to be sure. Aiming to look nonchalant, he takes a drink from his own beer.  
  
Michael scowls at him. “It’s just Max,” he says sulkily.  
  
Belatedly realizing he’s saying ‘just Max’ the exact same way he’d said ‘just Isobel’ so many months ago, Alex clues in to what he’s inadvertently done. “It’s not that,” he says hurriedly, keeping his voice low as Max approaches. “He’s your _brother_.”  
  
“So?” Michael says mulishly. “He knows we’re together.”  
  
“Knowing and seeing are two very different things,” Alex mutters. His own brothers were a step up from their father in that they were never physically hostile over his pretences, but they hadn’t exactly wanted him shoving it in their faces either. “Put your shirt back on.”  
  
Unsurprisingly, Michael ignores him. Turning his scowl on Max, he plants his hands on his hips once the other man is within earshot. “What do you want? I’m busy.”  
  
Max gives them both a knowing smirk. “I can see that,” he says glibly. “You’re hard at work, no doubt.”  
  
There is an appalling amount of innuendo in his words, but shockingly, Michael doesn’t rise to the bait. “I mean it, Max,” he says, jerking a thumb towards the truck behind him. “I’m working, and Alex is already keeping me company. Why are you here?”  
  
“Cruiser’s making a funny noise,” Max replies, dropping the teasing act. “I was hoping you could take a look at it.”  
  
“You’d better get in line then,” Michael says. “First job’s got to be done on schedule.”  
  
Max looks like he’s considering arguing, but for some reason he stops. Sighing heavily, he shoves his hands in his pockets. “How long do you figure before you can get to it?”  
  
Michael shrugs. “Truck’s got at least another hour’s work left, and that’s assuming I don’t run into any complications. If that’s too long a wait, though, you’ll have to bring it back tomorrow.”  
  
“It’s fine,” Max says. “I don’t mind sticking around.”  
  
“Good for you,” Michael says, and Alex doesn’t think he’s imagining the way he sounds put out by this news. “Grab a seat and don’t distract me, otherwise this’ll take even longer. Also, be nice to Alex. Unlike you, he was invited.”  
  
“I’m always nice,” Max protests.  
  
Michael mutters something incomprehensible under his breath, and Alex doubts whatever it is is a compliment.   
  
Sighing, he turns to Max. “You want a beer?”  
  
*****  
  
After the day at the junkyard, Alex feels vaguely unsettled, like he’d dropped the ball by making Michael briefly think he had an issue with Max seeing them together. Deciding that’s the kind of thing they should probably talk about, he waits a few days and then one evening grabs a six pack out of his fridge.  
  
It’s late by the time he pulls up outside of Michael’s airstream, with the sun having set hours ago. Luckily, Michael’s not yet turned in for the night. Rather, he’s sitting outside under the stars, enjoying one of his frequent campfires.   
  
“Hey,” Alex calls as he gets out of his car.   
  
He sees Michael jump slightly, as if he’d been lost in thought prior to Alex’s arrival, but he settles quickly enough, and the pleased smile he shoots Alex’s way is welcoming to say the least.  
  
“Heyyy,” he drawls, dragging the word out much longer than Alex had. “I didn’t know you’d be stopping by tonight. What’s up?”  
  
“What? A guy can’t just want to spend some time with his boyfriend?” Alex holds up the package he’s carrying. “I even brought treats.”  
  
“You do know the way to my heart,” Michael laughs. He kicks out at the empty chair next to him. “Come sit.”  
  
Stepping forward, Alex does as requested, settling down in the spare seat, and placing the beers between them on the ground. However, he doesn’t bother taking one, and instead places his hands awkwardly in his lap.  
  
“I was actually hoping we could talk,” he says quietly, wincing when he sees Michael flinch beside him. “Not about anything bad, not really,” he says quickly. “I wanted to apologize. For the other day,” he clarifies when Michael makes a confused face.  
  
“The other - oh, you mean when Max stopped by?” At Alex’s nod, Michael shrugs. “It’s okay. You already explained yourself. You don’t have to do it again.”  
  
“Maybe,” Alex says doubtfully. “I just - I don’t want to hurt you, you know? Accidentally or otherwise. I don’t want to mess things up like I did before.”  
  
“Pretty sure the fact that you’re here right now means it’s not like it was last time,” Michael says dryly. “Not at all.”  
  
“Still,” Alex says, feeling guilty. “I want to make it up to you.”  
  
“Alex,” Michael starts to say. “Really, it’s not that big a deal.”  
  
He sounds like he believes it, but if anything that makes Alex feels worse. “Everything involving you is a big deal to me,” he says firmly. “Seriously, make a suggestion. I’m listening.”  
  
“Well, I mean. I don’t know. We could go somewhere?” Michael tries hesitantly, squirming in his seat like he’s not sure of what he’s saying.  
  
Alex, however, immediately perks up at the idea. “We could,” he agrees, straightening out of his slouch. “Let’s do that.”  
  
“Yeah?” Michael asks, looking surprised that Alex had given in so easily. “Uh, where did you want to go? The Crashdown should still be open, or maybe ...”  
  
“What? No.” His mind focused on something else entirely, he cuts Michael off mid-sentence. “I didn’t mean in town,” he clarifies because that’s not really their thing. “I, um, I’ve been meaning to ask if you’d take me to see the pods?”  
  
“It’s just,” he continues on in a rush when Michael frowns at him, “Liz has seen them - not that that’s any justification for me doing it - but the way she described them, and, I mean, knowing that they kept you safe all those years, I just. Um.”  
  
Knowing full well he sounds like an idiot, Alex lets his babble trail off, and buries his face in his hands. “Please forget you heard all that, and instead pretend I sounded a lot more suave in my request.”  
  
Michael laughs. It’s a fond sound, teasing where it could easily be a lot less kind. His eyes still covered, Alex hears the telltale shift of him climbing out of his own seat, and the faint crunch of gravel beneath his boots as he moves to the side.  
  
“We can go see them,” he says, and when Alex looks up its to find Michael offering him a hand up. “I’ll drive.”  
  
“Well, yeah,” Alex replies. Taking the outstretched hand, he allows Michael to haul him to his feet, enjoying the touch of Michael’s calloused palm against his own. “You’re the one who knows where he’s going.”  
  
The trip out to the pods is shorter than Alex had anticipated, and he feels strangely nervous when they’ve come to a halt and he’s climbing down out of the cab of Michael’s truck. He eyes the entrance to the cave, letting his gaze sweep over the area without moving forward. “Are you sure it’s okay for me to go in?”  
  
Michael chuckles as he rounds the front of the truck. “It’s kind of too late to stop you at this point,” he says. “Even if I took you home right now, I’m pretty sure all that fancy military training would help you find your way back.”  
  
“I’m pretty sure I don’t need any training for that,” Alex says dryly. He scuffs at the dirt beneath him with his good foot. “I’m serious, Michael. You don’t have to show me if you don’t want to.”  
  
“I want to show you everything,” Michael says, and the way he speaks hints at the kind of promises Alex can’t even begin to fathom. Not knowing what else to do, he nods.  
  
They fall into step easily, and once inside, Alex feels Michael’s hand settle on his back. He barely exerts any pressure, but the slight touch is enough to help Alex navigate in the dark and unfamiliar territory.  
  
Until, that is, suddenly it’s not dark anymore. There’s a glow up ahead, and when they emerge into the cavern, Alex finds himself bathed in warm light as he stands in front of the three pods.  
  
“God,” he breathes, unable to do anything other than simply drink the sight in. “They’re beautiful.”  
  
“You think?” Cocking his head to the side, Michael stares at the pods for several long moments, and then shrugs. “I guess they’re kind of pretty,” he says. “I never really thought about it.”  
  
“That’s because you’re an incorrigible lout,” Alex informs him, but he softens the words with a smile when he says as much. “Which one’s yours?”  
  
Michael gestures to one of the pods on the side. “Izzy was in the middle, and Max had the other one.”  
  
Alex takes a careful step towards the one Michael indicated belongs to him. “Can I?” He asks, raising a hand up towards it. “Is that allowed?”  
  
“No law against it,” Michael quips, and Alex isn’t about to ask twice. Extending his hand out, he lets his fingers trail over the rounded shell of the pod, gasping when what feels almost like electricity crackles over his skin.  
  
“It’s warm,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper.  
  
“I know,” Michael agrees. He’s stepped closer without Alex noticing, and now his arms come up to encircle his waist in a comfortable hold. “Max has suggested they might be meant to simulate being in the womb.”  
  
Alex makes a face. “Max reads too many weird novels,” he says.  
  
“Probably,” Michael admits. “He’s told me more than once he’s a romantic at heart.”  
  
Alex considers this. “Ew,” he declares, gratified by Michael’s sudden bark of laughter in his ear. “That’s just weird.”  
  
“Little bit, yeah.” Michael hums slightly to himself before nuzzling his face into the crook between Alex’s neck and shoulder. “You really think they’re cool?” He asks almost shyly.  
  
Twisting around so he can nuzzle back, Alex smiles. “I think they’re amazing,” he says softly, and the dim light provided by the pods is still enough to let him see the way Michael’s cheeks turn pink. “Not unlike something else I could name.”  
  
“Something else?” Michael echoes, “or some _one_ else?”  
  
“I think you already know the answer to that question,” he says. “But keep fishing if you want.”  
  
Without giving any warning, he twists in Michael’s grip, so that they’re standing pressed chest to chest and he can loop his arms around Michael’s neck. Then he leans in to kiss him.   
  
“Really?” Michael murmurs. “Here?”  
  
“Why not?” Alex asks. Glancing around the cave, he finds himself laughing. “It’s kind of like one of those stereotypical secluded teenage necking spots,” he observes. “You know, the kind we never got to go to.”  
  
“Maybe you didn’t,” Michael snickers, the sound turning into a yelp when Alex pinches him. “Kidding!”  
  
Rolling his eyes, Alex moves in for another kiss. “Shut up and make out with me, you idiot.”  
  
*****  
  
A couple weeks go by with, and they keep moving right along with them. Alex is pleased as can be with the state of their relationship, and he thinks Michael feels the same, right up until he gets a clear message to the contrary.  
  
He’s home alone early one evening, idly messing about on the internet, when he hears the telltales sounds of a very familiar vehicle moving up the road. Allowing himself a small smile, he powers down his laptop and heads for the front door.  
  
“I thought you were hanging out with Max tonight,” he calls as he watches Michael approach from the doorway. “Something about brotherly bonding if I recall correctly.”  
  
Michael’s snorts comes through loud and clear even though he’s still a fair distance away. “One, I definitely didn’t describe it that way, so you shouldn’t either, and two, Max had to bail. Valenti Sr. asked him to come in because they’re still having staffing issues.”  
  
“So you thought you’d come spend you’re evening with me,” Alex surmises. “I’d be lying if I said I had a problem with that.”  
  
Moving to step back to let him in, Alex gets his first good look at Michael, and it’s only then that he realizes he’s not exactly dressed for a night of lounging around the cabin. His usual uniform of jeans and ratty t-shirt have been replaced by slacks and a pressed button to, to say nothing of his jacket, which is easily the nicest one Alex has ever seen on him. “Whoa, do you have actual plans or something?”  
  
“Yes.” Michael says firmly, straightening to his full height in the doorway. “Specifically with you. We’re going to The Mercutio. Isobel suggested it. It’s a -“  
  
“I know what it is,” Alex cuts in. The Mercutio is a relatively new addition to Roswell’s night life, he’s yet to set foot in it, and as far as he knows it’s pretty high end. “Why would we go there? Maria says they have a dress code.”  
  
“Yeahhh,” Michael drawls. His expression suggesting he thinks Alex is being particularly dim, he gestures to himself. “That would be why I look like this right now.”  
  
“It’s a good look,” Alex assures him, because it really, really is, “but wouldn’t you rather just stay in and not have to get into anything fancy?”  
  
Michael makes a frustrated noise, and moves to tug at his curls before stopping himself in the nick of time. “Could you just humour me? Is that really too much to ask?”  
  
“What? No, of course it isn’t,” Alex says, caught off guard. He peers at Michael more intently, looking for something, but he’s not sure what. “You really want to do this?”  
  
“Yes, Alex,” Michael groans. “Why else would I be standing here like this if I didn’t?”  
  
“Okay,” Alex says, nonplussed. He glances down at his own dusty jeans and the t-shirt with the frayed hem. “Do I have time to change? From what I know of the place, I don’t think they’ll let me in the door like this.”  
  
“The reservation’s not until seven,” Michael says. “I figured you’d need a bit to get ready.”  
  
“Good call,” Alex says, unable to think of anything better. “I guess just wait here? I’ll be as quick as I can.”  
  
He waits until Michael’s nodded and stepped fully into the cabin, after which he turns and heads in the direction of his bedroom. His own wardrobe isn’t exactly rife with choices for a nice night out, but he’s sure he’ll have something that passes muster.  
  
In the end he settles on a pair of slacks and a dark green button down he’s been told more than once looks good on him. He runs a quick comb through his hair to make it appear a little less out of control, and then goes to rejoin Michael in the front room.  
  
His return is heralded by a satisfying hum from Michael as the other man gives him an obvious once over. “Looking good, private,” he says, a teasing lilt Alex loves in his voice. “You clean up real nice.”  
  
“Takes one to know one,” Alex replies. “Are we good to go?”  
  
“Yes,” Michael says, his tone all business as he opens the door and motions Alex on ahead of him. “After you.”  
  
*****  
  
Dinner is, well, possibly the less said about it the better. It’s not that anything really goes wrong per se, it’s just that it’s stilted and awkward and not at all what Alex has come to expect over the past little while. They go, they eat, and then they get the hell out of dodge the moment they’re done.  
  
The drive back to his place is eerily silent, and Alex finds himself wishing for it to be over as quickly as possible. He can’t quite manage to hold back a sigh of relief when the cabin comes into view, and he feels Michael stiffen next to him.  
  
He thinks about making up a lie that his leg is bothering him, and that’s why he’s so happy to be home. One look at Michael’s face though, and he knows that’d be a bad idea. Biting down on another sigh, he unbuckles his seatbelt, and slides silently out of the truck.  
  
He’s half afraid Michael will drive away and leave him there once he’s down, but thankfully he doesn’t. Instead he exits the vehicle as quietly as Alex had, and trails after him towards the house.  
  
Alex has left the front light on before he’d left, a fact he’s grateful for now when he’s standing here now, trying to find his keys. They’re on him somewhere, he knows, but not in the pocket he usually keeps them. “Damnit,” he mutters when another spot comes up empty. “I should really get you a spare set.”  
  
“Why bother?” Michael asks, right when Alex’s hand finally closes around his missing key ring. “I mean,” he adds when Alex jerks around to stare at him, “I can open locks with my brain. Keys only get me so far.”  
  
As cover ups go, it’s not a bad one, if it weren’t for the miserable look on his face, he might have managed to sell it. Unfortunately, Alex is far too good at reading him.  
  
“Michael, what’s going on?” Alex asks before he can think better of it. “What’s gotten into you?”  
  
“Nothing,” Michael says defensively. No longer meeting Alex’s eyes, he lets his gaze roam around the open space, kicking idly at the porch step with one booted foot. “I’m fine.”  
  
“You’re lying,” Alex says with certainty. “You’ve been acting weird all night, and I have no idea why.”  
  
That gets Michael’s attention. His posture stiffening, he fixes Alex with an unimpressed look. “Since when does trying to have a nice evening together count as weird?” He asks, folding his arms over his chest defensively.  
  
Alex raises an eyebrow at him. “Are you honestly saying you enjoyed tonight? Because from where I’m standing, it was mainly just awkward.”  
  
For some reason Michael laughs, only he does it in a way that is decidedly unpleasant. “The only reason it was awkward was because you don’t like being out in public with me.”  
  
Alex gapes at him. “That’s not true,” he protests, wondering where the hell he’d gotten an idea so crazy.  
  
“How is it not, Alex?” Michael demands, waving his good hand for emphasis. “Think about where we spend time together. Your place, my place. The desert, a freakin’ cave! Sure, we’re better at talking now, but from where I’m standing, that’s the only difference.”  
  
“Okay, fine,” Alex snaps, starting to get a little annoyed himself. “You’re not happy with me, I’ve got it, but could you maybe dial back the yelling a bit? What happened to us being able to talk shit out? Just say what you want to say, Guerin.”  
  
He doesn’t mean to do it. After all this time, he’s well aware that Michael doesn’t like him calling him by his last name unless he’s teasing him, but he’s confused and frustrated, and in that moment finds himself reverting to habits from days gone by.  
  
As soon as the word leaves his mouth, Michael’s entire expression congeals. Only instead of getting even angrier like Alex is anticipating, he seems to shrink in on himself. He’s quiet for a few moments, and then he licks his lips before speaking.   
  
“It feels like you still don’t want to be seen with me,” he repeats, so quietly that Alex needs a second to process what he’s saying. “Like you’re ashamed.”  
  
 _Oh shit._ Feeling a little like he’s got whiplash, Alex struggles to get his brain back online after this unexpected pronouncement. Of all things he’d expected to have come out of Michael’s mouth, that wasn’t even on the list.  
  
“That’s not - Michael, that’s not true,” he insists. “Not at _all_.”  
  
Michael shrugs unhappily. “You say that, but I don’t see why I should believe you. We don’t even hang out with our _friends_ ,” he stresses. “Let alone in public. The closest we’ve ever come was that time Max stopped by with his car, and that hardly counts, especially since you got weird then too.”  
  
“Because he’s your _brother_ ,” Alex reminds him. “Not because of anything else.”  
  
“Yeah, but it all adds up, you know?” Michael shrugs. “Some folks get flowers and nights out, Alex, but me, I get beer and closed doors.”  
  
Alex genuinely doesn’t know what to say to that, but he’s smart enough to know that his front step isn’t the place to continue this conversation. “Let’s go inside,” he suggests. “We can figure this out in there.”  
  
He turns to push open the door, but it takes him no time at all to realize Michael’s not following him. His stomach clenching, he shifts back around. “Are you coming?”  
  
Michael shakes his head, making Alex’s gut twist even more. “I don’t think so,” he says softly. “See, I know myself. If I go in there with you now, I’m going to wind up even more pissed, and that won’t help anything.”  
  
“I’m gonna go home,” he says firmly. “We can talk later.”  
  
“I -“ Alex wants to protest, but it dawns on him that doing so wouldn’t be fair. However inadvertently he’s done it, he’s hurt Michael, and he doesn’t get to decide how the man reacts to that. “Okay. Whatever you want.”  
  
Michael gives him a smile that doesn’t come close to reaching his eyes. “Right,” he says, already back away off the porch. “Whatever I want.”  
  
*****  
  
“I think I fucked up,” Alex says morosely. He’s staring down at the polished counter of the Wild Pony’s bar, sighing forlornly. It’s been three whole days since he’s seen or heard from Michael, which after the past few months is virtually unheard of.  
  
There’s a sigh above him, as Maria sets down a glass. “I know I’m going to regret this, but I assume you mean with Guerin?”  
  
Alex nods miserably. “I was hoping I might find him here tonight,” he admits. “Seeing as it’s one of his favorite haunts.”  
  
Maria snorts. “Not lately, it isn’t,” she says. “I mean, he’s still around, sure, but nowhere near like he was before you two pulled your heads out of your asses. I see him once, maybe twice a week, and right now I haven’t seen him for days.”  
  
“So,” she says when Alex’s sole response to this is heartfelt groan. “What’d you do?”  
  
“I told you, I fucked up,” Alex grunts. “He’s mad at me, and I completely deserve it, but he’s also shutting me out, so I can’t fix it.”  
  
“Yet instead of going to find him, you’ve come here to drown your sorrows and make me play relationship guru,” Maria says. “Real mature, Manes.”  
  
“I went to the airstream first,” Alex tells her. “He wasn’t there, and he’s not answering my calls. He likes this place, so I thought he might be here.”  
  
“Well he’s not,” Maria says helpfully. “I haven’t had to throw him out in weeks. Did you try the Evanses, maybe he’s with them?”  
  
“Doubtful,” Alex mutters. He knows for a fact Max is on shift tonight due to the fact that the Sheriff’s department has been short staffed ever since Cameron left, and there’s no way Michael’s going to Isobel to complain about romantic woes, not when she’s still trying to recover from the mess with Noah. “He could be anywhere.”  
  
“Alex, come on,” Maria huffs. “Stop acting like he’s dead as opposed to in need of a little space. What exactly did you do that’s got him so out of sorts?”  
  
Looking around furtively to make sure no one’s listening, Alex leans in to tell her.  
  
“Ah,” she says, nodding her head in understanding once he’s explained. “You realize, you suck, right?” She asks. “I know we all tend to act like it’s not the case, but Guerin’s proved on more than one occasion that he really does have feelings.”  
  
Alex gives her the best glare he can muster. “Thanks, I hadn’t noticed.”  
  
“Clearly,” she says. “That’s why you’re in this mess. Oh cheer up, buttercup,” she says when he sags pathetically on his stool. “He’ll come around eventually. Just give him a little more time to lick his wounds before you go after him.”  
  
“I promised him I’d do it better this time.”  
  
“That’s it, I’m cutting you off.” Grabbing Alex’s beer, despite the fact that it’s only his second of the night and he’s barely had a chance to touch it, she moves it out of reach. “Go home, Alex. You’re not doing anyone any good sulking here. On the off chance Guerin stops by, I’ll let you know. Okay?”  
  
Alex squints at her. “You’ll text me the next time he shows up, even if it’s not tonight?”  
  
“Sure, fine. Whatever.” Shoving his confiscated bottle down beneath the bar, Maria flaps a hand at him to get him moving. “Go back to your place and try to sleep. Tomorrow’s a new day and all that crap.”  
  
“That’s quite the pep talk there,” Alex says, but thankfully he’s already moving when she swats at him with a cleaning rag. “Night, Maria.”  
  
The drive back to his place seems even longer than usual, and he sighs when he pulls up in front of it. He’d been vaguely hopeful that Michael might be here waiting for him, but the cabin’s as empty now as it had been when he’d left earlier. Wherever Michael’s gone to ground, it certainly isn’t here.  
  
Even though he knows there’s no point, he checks his phone to see if he has any new messages while he unlocks the front door. There’s nothing, his last text from Michael is still the one from right before the disastrous dinner, the one saying he was on his way over. Alex seriously wishes that were the case.   
  
He sulks through his evening routine, going through the motions of getting his prosthetic off, and everything else he has to do. Finally ready for bed, he flops down onto the mattress, trying not to think about how empty it feels without someone lying next to him. What he needs is to be able to get near Michael. Then he can show him how much he means to him, and how much he wants this relationship to work.  
  
Dragging the blankets up over his shoulders, he resolves to fix things as soon as he gets a chance.  
  
*****  
  


_ Code Red _ . Maria texts him two days later.  _ Your boy just walked in, and he’s got that look in his eye that says he’s aiming to cause a scene and land himself in the tank for being drunk and disorderly. _   
  
_ Thx _ . Alex sends back.  _ Be there soon.  _ He hesitates before firing off a third text.  _ Try and keep him sober if you can. _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Hah. No fuckin’ promises. _ _   
_   
*****   
  
The parking lot outside the Wild Pony is about half full when Alex pulls up. Climbing out of his truck, he takes a minute to ensure the package he’s brought with him has made it through the drive intact, and then heads for the entrance.   
  
He doesn’t see Michael when he first steps inside, but Maria spots him almost immediately. Hustling over, she pauses about six inches away from him, glances at what he’s holding, and quirks an eyebrow. “Do I even want to know?”   
  
“It’s a gesture,” Alex informs her, refusing to be embarrassed. “I’m getting a point across.”   
  
“If you say so,” she replies, jerking her head towards the far corner of the bar and one of the more secluded booths. “He’s over there. I’ve managed to limit him to one bottle so far; means he should definitely be coherent.”   
  
Knowing Michael he’ll have spiked it with acetone, but even that extra kick shouldn’t be enough to take him out with only one drink. Assuming he’s safe, Alex sucks in a deep breath and heads for the booth.   
  
Michael’s sitting hunched over his liquor bottle, tucked away so far in the back of the booth Alex is mildly surprised he hasn’t melded with the wall. He doesn’t look up when Alex approaches, merely keeps playing with the label on his beer.   
  
Alex clears his throat. “Hey,” he says softly.    
  
As opening lines go it’s maybe not the most spectacular, but at least it gets Michael to turn towards him. “Hey,” he replies, plastering a sunny smile on his face that Alex doesn’t believe for a moment. “What brings you here?”   
  
“I was looking for you,” Alex says simply. “I brought you something.” Wordlessly, he holds out the bouquet of red roses he’s carrying, offering them to Michael.   
  
Who blinks in confusion. His mouth opens and closes a few times, like he’s considering and discarding a number of potential responses. Finally, he settles on a simple, “What?”   
  
Alex continues holding up the bouquet. “I have it on good authority that flowers are something you give a significant other. These are for you.”   
  
Michael glances furtively around the room, like he’s half expecting a dozen spectators to jump out and yell ‘surprise!’ if he’s not careful. When no such thing happens, however, he tentatively reaches out to take the roses.    
  
“They’re nice?” He says, sounding like he’s wondering if they’ll explode if he looks at them wrong. “But what’re you giving them to me for?”   
  
Alex sighs. “They’re a - a gesture,” he tries, stumbling because the word sounds a lot sillier now than when he’d previously said it to Maria. “Call it the start of an apology.”   
  
“Just a start?” Michael asks curiously. “There’s more?”   
  
“Yeah,” Alex says, nodding at the table. “Do you mind if I sit?”   
  
“It’s a free country.” Michael shrugs, most of his attention still on the bouquet in his hands. As Alex settles on the padded seat across from him, he gives the flowers a sniff. “These are fresh.”   
  
“Of course they’re fresh,” Alex snorts, wondering why the hell he seems suspicious of this of all things. “I’m not going to bring you crappy flowers, Michael. I wanted to get you something nice.”   
  
“Funny,” Michael says. “When I tried to do that for you, I got yelled at.”   
  
Alex winces. “I didn’t yell,” he protests, “but I did behave badly, and I’m sorry about that.”   
  
Michael shrugs. “S’okay,” he mumbles, doing nothing to make Alex feel any less guilty since he’s so obviously deflecting. “I should’ve asked beforehand if you wanted to switch things up.”   
  
He sets the flowers down next to his beer, but rather than picking up the bottle, he splays his hands out over the tabletop, idly tapping his fingers like he’s not sure what to do with them. Seeing an opportunity and deciding to take it, Alex shifts to cover his hands with his own, lacing their fingers together in a complicated pattern.   
  
“You didn’t need to ask,” he insists. “You were already speaking loud and clear, I just wasn’t listening.”   
  
Michael’s eyes have gone wide, and at first he stares down at their joined hands like he’s not sure this is what’s really happening. Then he cranes his neck around, twisting to eye the other patrons of the bar.   
  
“People will see,” he says dubiously, and it breaks Alex’s heart the way he still so obviously thinks Alex is ashamed of him.   
  
Unwilling to set that stand, Alex lets go of one hand, and reaches up to hook his chin between thumb and forefinger. Gently, he turns Michael’s face back around until their eyes meet.    
  
“It was never because I didn’t want to be seen with you,” he says firmly, he needs Michael to understand. “If I’d thought for a second you’d let me drag you around town and show you off, I’d’ve been all over that. I was trying to come up with things you’d enjoy. I thought you liked what we were doing.”   
  
“I do! Did.” Michael insists. “Do. It’s just ...” he squirms uncomfortably, trailing off without finishing his sentence. Luckily for him, he and Alex are finally on the same page.   
  
“It’s just you wanted more,” he says, his beliefs confirmed by a sharp nod. “Michael, there’s nothing wrong with that. If you want more, I’m happy to give it to you.”   
  
Michael frowns unhappily. “I don’t want you to force yourself to do something only to make me happy. I want you to be happy too.”   
  
Unexpectedly, Alex feels the urge to laugh, not because the situation is funny, but because he’s so stupidly in love with this man. “Trust me,” he promises. “Spending time with you in any capacity isn’t a hardship. If you want to ramp up what we get into, I’m all for it.”   
  
Letting go of Michael’s other hand, he props his elbows on the table and leans forward until they’re barely a few inches apart. “It’s Tuesday, and starting right now Tuesday’s are date night. You want a fancy dinner, I’ll get you a fancy dinner. You want popcorn and the movies, I’ll get you popcorn and the movies. You want ...” he wracks brain for another suggestion, quickly running out of ideas thanks to his own limited experience in dating, “... you want a romantic stroll on the beach, I’ll get you a romantic stroll on the beach.”   
  
Michael laughs, the sound more than capable of doing ridiculous things to Alex’s insides. “Alex, there aren’t any beaches in Roswell. You know that.”   
  
“Then we’ll go somewhere until we see one,” Alex insists. If Michael wants a beach, then goddamnit will Alex find him a beach. “I promised you when we started over that we’d do it right this time. Consider this me doing it right.”   
  
“You sure about that?” Michael asks, he’s watching Alex like he’s a puzzle he can’t quite figure out, but also like he’s right on the verge of doing so and enjoying what he finds. “Alex, are you sure?”   
  
In answer, Alex closes the last bit of distance between them and kisses him. He’s pretty sure he hears someone wolf whistle, but he ignores it in favour of focusing on the only person in the bar who matters at all.   
  
“I’m sure,” he murmurs when he pulls back, and the look on Michael’s face is so delighted he needs to duck in and kiss him again. Quickly this time, though, because he’s still not done.   
  
Settling back in his seat - but keeping one of Michael’s hands curled in his - he looks around until he spots Maria, and then waves her over.   
  
“You rang,” she says dryly, not even bothering to try and hide her smirk. “I was starting to think I’d have to turn the hose on you when this little love fest got out of hand.”   
  
“Please don’t,” Alex says. “That’d put a pretty big damper on date night. Actually, I was wondering if I could get a beer, and maybe a plate of nachos for us to split.”   
  
“How cute,” Maria coos, all saccharine sweet. “And I see you’re already holding hands. What’s next? You guys gonna play footsie under the table?”   
  
“That may very well come to pass,” Alex says gravely, and when he spares a quick glances at Michael he gets a lazy smile and a trademarked Guerin wink in response. He turns back to Maria. “One beer, please, and the nachos.”   
  
She shakes her head. “Coming right up.”   
  
Once she’s gone, he returns his full attention to Michael. “So,” he says, caressing his thumb idly over the back of the other man’s hand. “Will this do for a start?”   
  
Michael laughs, but he’s back to being an open book to Alex, and there’s no hiding the fact that he’s happy. “Yeah,” he says simply. “This’ll do.”   
  
  
  



End file.
